


Renewal

by KroganVanguard



Category: Castle
Genre: Clear and Present Danger, Cowgirl Position, Episode Tag, F/M, Oral Sex, post ep, season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 23:35:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2486405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KroganVanguard/pseuds/KroganVanguard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Picks up right after the episode ends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Renewal

Everything else faded from his world as she swayed towards him, her body on display in all its natural glory. His eyes tracked her from head to toe- the beautiful brunette curls that framed her gorgeous features, those green-dark eyes that glinted with anticipation and joy, the slope of her shoulder over those delicate but strong collarbones. The dark pink nipples that topped those high, firm breasts, the scar in between them and to the side of her ribs. The slight pooch of her stomach, the shaved vee between her thighs, those glorious long legs, taut and strong…his eyes tracked every inch of her, drinking in the sight of her, the sight he hadn’t seen in all too long, the sight that was etched into his mind and haunted his dreams and thoughts. 

He was a fly suspended in amber, time and space frozen around him till she was close enough to lean over and laugh into his ear.

“Breathe, Castle.”

He let go, exhaling a breath he hadn’t even known he’d been holding, eyes slowly blinking as he came back into the world, realised it wasn’t a dream. Her scent, an intoxicating mixture of vanilla and cherry and something more indelibly her, the essence of her, wrapped itself around him, and he wallowed in it, took it in and made it a part of himself. His fingers reached for the buttons of his shirt, eager to catch up to her. 

One of her hands swatted at him.

“No?”

He couldn’t quite keep the whine out his tone, and that wonderful smile lit up her features again.

“No. Mine.”

She leaned over him, capturing his lips in a kiss, pushing him backwards onto the bed by his shoulders. He wasn’t even aware of her driving him backwards to the middle, to how she straddled him, as her lips worked his, her tongue delving into his mouth. Capturing it. Claiming it. 

He felt himself harden under his pants, tent his boxers with how she turned him on, but as soon as his hands went his belt, she took them and pinned them against the headboard. 

“No, no. Mine.” 

Her words were fiercer this time, and though he could have broken the hold she had on him, he could see the need in her eyes tonight. The way she pleaded with him to let her have this, to let her take the controls, to let her establish the rightness between them. 

He had never really been able to tell her no.

“Yours.” He nodded, leaving his hands against the headboard when she took hers away. 

Hers trailed down to his hair, slim fingers running in between his locks as she peppered his jawline with kisses, occasionally nipping at his skin as she writhed ever so slowly, her naked skin against his clothed hips. By the time her mouth skimmed over his throat, his hair was thoroughly mussed and he could feel his shaft nudge against her, even through layers of clothing. 

When her fingers finally reached the buttons of his shirt, slowly and methodically working them open, he couldn’t resist any longer. He had to taste her. When he leaned up to press his lips against the stiff peak off her breasts, sucking and then rolling them with his tongue, she didn’t drive him away, but pressed the back of his head to her chest. The half-opened shirt forgotten momentarily as she arched her back, especially when he switched his attention to the other peak, the way she moaned his name the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Castle…”

“Oh I missed this Kate. I missed you.”

She looked down at him, leonine and proud and haughty, but completely vulnerable and open at the same time. Unshed tears glinted in those green pools.

“Shh, babe. We’re here now. We made it.”

Her hands went back to his shirt, undoing the last two buttons carefully. If roles had been switched, he might have torn her shirt open, but she’s very neat. Very careful. She undresses him like he’s an expensive present, one to be savoured. 

He’s not sure he’s going to last if she insists on this pace, especially with the way her hips undulating faster now.

“Faster, Kate.”

“Castle…”

“Yes, I know. You’re in charge. But it’s been a few months, and I’m a man with only so much self-control when his naked fiancée is writhing in his lap.”

She giggles at his terse words, and he takes pleasure in that, pleasure in the fact that they can laugh at each other, at themselves. That the wounds between them, on each other, have healed to that extent.   
She slides down further, unbuckling his belt and pants, working faster though still in control. He raises his hips to let her shuck him of pants and boxers in one swift move (when had he lost his shoes and socks? No idea, but good thing he had). 

He can see the wetness glinting between her legs, the evidence of her desire, of how long she’d had to wait too. She grins when she sees where his eyes are and that mind-meld is back in full force as they work in-sync again. He lies back flat against the bed, as she puts a pillow under his head, and he’s almost salivating for a taste of her by the time she sinks down onto his waiting lips. He doesn’t wait around. No time for delicate kisses and tense foreplay this.

His tongue immediately delves between her soft folds, the tangy taste of her like an elixir as he drives through them to where her sensitive little cluster of nerves lies, already erect. Broad, hard swathes of his tongue, lashing against her as her thighs grip the side of his head and her fingers entwine in his hair, pulling so hard it hurts. He sets a relentless pace, focusing his lips and tongue on her clit, and sliding two thick digits of his hand past his chin and into the silken heat of her inner walls. He uses every ounce of knowledge he has, every second he has spent mapping her body with hands and mind and tongue, pushing her to the edge, till he can hear the impending climax in the throaty, wordless, keening moans that echo in their room. He feels the vibrations both inside and outside of her, knowing what’s coming, using it to keep up his ministrations. She’s so wet, so slick around him, the heat of her like a forge, he knows she’s teetering on the cliff and he’s just ready push-

She stops, raising herself off him with those beautiful strong thighs. He looks up at her, the slight sheen of sweat on her brow, her body even more beautiful from this angle, where his eyes can drink in every curve.

“Kate?”

“I want to feel you inside me.”

There’s an edge to both their voices, an edge of need and desire sure, but also something deeper. The frenzy has slowed for an instance, just relaxed into the two of them, the calm in the eye of the storm. He knows what she needs, because he needs it himself. Their connection, their intimacy, their joining, and an expression of what they feel for each other, which cannot be encompassed in words, expressed in words. It’s too big for that, too overwhelming, even for him, even for his mastery over language. 

He nods slowly, and their eyes stay locked on each other as she moves down his body. Her juices coat his chin and mouth, and he slowly works his tongue over single droplet, making sure she sees, making sure she understands how he savours the taste. Her eyes darken and pupils dilate with every movement of his tongue, the very tongue that was pressed against her centre just moments before. 

And then she at his hips, his hardness jutting high underneath her as she slides herself across the tip of him, his hips bucking involuntarily at the sight and sensation of it. She’s so wet and so ready that there’s no need for extra help or lubrication, she simply positions herself and slides onto him. The immediate sensation is so strong that he arches his hips up, drives into her, but squeezes his eyes shut at the warmth and heat of her, the velvet feel of her around him. 

They’re not going to last long, not like this. 

He opens his eyes when she angles herself forward, and rides him. He works his hips in accordance with her, their natural rhythm snapping back into place. Her hands skate the broad planes of his shoulders, the thick muscles of his arms, while his own hold onto her hips, the soft skin under his fingers feeling like home. 

He can feel the tightness building in the pit of his stomach, the heat pooling between his legs as they slide against each other. He drops one hand from her hip to her clit, adding friction to penetration, and being rewarded with the sight of her eyes rolling back in her head, the green almost replaced by black in pleasure. 

The little whimpering noises she’s making are the best thing he’s heard in months.

“Oh God, Rick, I’m so close. Come with me babe, let’s come together.”

He can do nothing but grunt gutturally in accordance, robbed of his words by the feeling of her around himself, over himself, overwhelming his senses in the best possible way. 

She shatters first.

He feels her clamp around his length, her back arching up as she squeezes down around him, his hand still at her cluster of her nerves, her voice hoarse in the night. 

“Rick, I’m coming. God now, please, Rick!”

The sensation of her pulsing hard around him, along with her voice, and the long and pent-up frustrations are too much. As soon as her climax is rolling through her, lighting up her eyes and features in ecstasy, he follows suit inside her. They maintain eye contact through their respective aftershocks, the air of the night now still but for coarse breathing from them both as they throb against each other, riding the high for as long as it will carry them. 

Eventually, she slumps against his chest, falling in that boneless and liquid manner he’s always associated with post-coital state. She becomes another form of matter, so limber and languid, the most relaxed he’s ever seen her. He curls his arms around her, wrapping her up till they meet over her thin shoulder blades, enveloping her in his arms.

She snuggles agreeably into the bear hug, resting her chin against his chest.

Her eyes, brilliant and emerald once more, track him.

“What’re you doing?” He feels his voice rumble against her.

She cracks that gorgeous smile again, the one he’ll never get tired of seeing.

“Just waiting for my fiancé. Maybe you’ve seen him?”

He waits, quirking an eyebrow as to where she’s going with this.

“Ruggedly handsome guy. Thinks he has to solve everyone else’s problems, ready to hide his own behind a joke, yet still manages to remind me why I fell in love with him.”

He remembers now, this conversation between them, in the wake of the sniper case. When everything lay unspoken, like potential waiting to spark into life.

“Sounds like a handful.”

“Tell me about it. Anyway, if you do see him, tell him he owes me about…a hundred orgasms.”

He breaks into a chuckle, unable to hold it back after the cheeky grin on her face, that look that told him she was only just kidding.

Well if he owed her a hundred, he’d better get started…

(thankfully, no one ever asked what the counter he bought the next day and placed on the bedside table was actually for).


End file.
